A Safe Haven
by Tupti
Summary: What if John and Castiel knew each other? Dean/Castiel, AUish, angsty, one-shot.


**A safe Haven**

John looked around the dingy motel room in which his boys were staying for the night. Threadbare curtains, scuffed furniture, burns in the carpet: It was like every other motel room the two had spent their lives in. Sam and Dean were both fast asleep. Dean, as always, slept in the bed nearest to the door, facing the entrance, his back turned to Sam. Just like a faithful watch dog whose only purpose in life was to keep his pack safe. But his sleep, more often that not, was restless. Right now, his fists were clenched and his breathing heavy.

With a sigh John let his gaze wander until it fell on the worn-out leather jacket that hung over the back of a chair. This thing kept him in this world, even though his body had been cremated a long time ago. During his first days as a ghost he had desperately wanted to show himself to his sons, but hadn't managed. It had taken him a while until he had mastered the skills of showing himself to those who lived or to even move objects. By then he had had plenty of time to think and to watch his boys and finally had decided not to reveal himself to them. For Sam and Dean it had been so hard get over his death that he didn't want to rip those wounds open again. Especially, since he knew very well that he wouldn't be himself forever. Sooner or later he would be taken over by blind rage and the uncontrolled lust for revenge, he would become one of the things he used to hunt and more than everything he didn't want to confront his children with that. He had put enough on their shoulders already, when he had been alive, he didn't need to add to that. Other hunters could deal with him once the day had come.

Sometimes he wondered why he was still as sane as he was, even after years of being a ghost. So long, no sign of him becoming a vengeful spirit had shown. Maybe he was to busy watching out for his sons, maybe this task kept him grounded. But John didn't kid himself into thinking that it would go on like this forever. He would change some day, so that he needed to be taken out and that was that.

A gentle flutter of wings marked the arrival of Castiel. John turned around to see him sitting cross-legged next to Dean on the bed. The angel bowed down and gently started to caress his older son's hair. In reaction to that Dean's whole body relaxed, his fingers curled open.

"Hello, John", Castiel said in his typically sombre way, but didn't take his eyes off of Dean sleeping next to him while he spoke.

The angel had always been able to see John, but he had understood why the hunter didn't reveal himself to his children and never said a word to Sam or Dean about it. Sometimes they would exchange a few words, but they never talked much. At first, John had been wary about the growing relationship between Dean and Castiel. He was suspicious of every supernatural being and angels were no exception. And then his own son had to go and fall in love with one of them! But the longer he watched the two of them the clearer it became to him that some kind of fate or destiny or whatever you might call it had to be involved. He thought of Mary who apparently had always been right about angels watching over Dean.

"Castiel", John muttered after a while of watching them, "Can I ask you something?"

For the first time, the angel took his eyes off of Dean and looked up to meet John's gaze.

"Of course", he answered.

"You're an angel", John began to voice his thoughts, "You have been around for millennia, you must have met so many people. Why my son? What is it about him?"

Castiel smiled gently.

"Dean is special in many ways, John. He's Michael's vessel, he's one of the very, very few mortals who dared to stand up against Heaven, he's a hero. That's what makes him so unique, but that's not what has made me fall for him. What made me fall for him is how he is all that... and he's still so human. His stubbornness. His frailty. His wit. That makes him special to _me_, John."

In that moment, Dean began to move his legs restlessly, while a soft whimper escaped his mouth. Castiel turned his attention back towards him and took the hunter's hand gently into his own. The simple touch calmed Dean down immediately.

"Another nightmare", Castiel sighed, "I can soothe him, but I can't make the dreams go away permanently."

"You make him feel safe", John answered, "That's something. There has only been one person who ever managed to do that before." He hesitated, then he swallowed hard.

"Mary."

The name hung in the room, thick and heavy. John barely talked about his wife, even though he thought about her every single day. It was almost as if every time he spoke of her to somebody else he gave a part of his memories of her away. But he felt like Castiel should know.

"She was Dean's safe haven", he continued, his breathy voice giving away his feelings, "Ever since she died, Dean was on the run, always wary, always afraid. _I_ could never make him feel safe. So, erm..." He cleared his throat awkwardly, "Thank you, I guess."

Castiel just gave a subtle, acknowledging nod.

John's lips curved into a warm smile.


End file.
